


Let the Strays Stay

by Nestri



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Animal Transformation, Crack, Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Post-Avengers (2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28392555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nestri/pseuds/Nestri
Summary: Steve gets turned into a dog and is self sufficient enough to take himself out for walks. The only problem is the Great Dane keeps coming back with literal strays as doggy friends.Featuring a puppy named Puppy, and other merry mutts.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Let the Strays Stay

**Author's Note:**

> You ever have writer's block and you almost need to 'shake words free' for lack of better phrase? I'm currently working on a story that is being difficult. This fic is a product of me loosening those gears (and is completely unrelated to what I'm working on). 
> 
> This was also supposed to be like 1k I'm not sure what happened. Rated T for profanity.

“We could crate him,” Natasha says coolly. The others present, Tony, Bruce, and Clint, stare at her in varying degrees of horror, because putting Captain America in a crate, dog or not, probably constitutes a war crime. 

Almost immediately after she speaks, the curve of her lip flattens. In mild defense, she says, “I’ve said worse.” 

They all nod their heads because, yeah that’s true, and look at each other from their places at the conference table. It feels weird, hiding from a dog, but there’s enough human underneath all that fur to make it weird to talk about Steve like he isn’t there. The room is rarely used, if the cobwebs draped in the corners are any indicator. 

“We can take him to a shelter,” Clint offers, and the horrified looks swivel to him.

“To make friends!” 

Bruce sighs, but not enough to loosen the ever present tension in his shoulders, “We have no way of knowing if he can pick locks. Do we really want to risk the off chance Steve lets all the dogs free?”

“Ok I’ve had it,” Tony says, oddly silent during their impromptu brainstorming session, “I’m putting an end to Cap’s Animals Assemble routine.” 

He flicks his phone, and a hologram of a map projects from the device, “West coast shelters, J.”

 _“As you wish sir”,_ JARVIS says disdainfully. 

A noticeable silence follows as the map changes and Tony’s eyes flick up to each present Avenger. Clint squirms, his skillful gaze pinpointed on the map’s details a normal person wouldn’t be able to see from where he sits. Natasha’s hard exterior wavers, her eyes tight at the creases. Bruce avoids his gaze, pushing up his glasses with a forefinger and crossing his arms self consciously. 

“The west coast seems a bit.. far?” Bruce offers.

“Far enough to prevent a jailbreak,” Tony mutters, fingers dancing across the hologram. 

“Ah,” Bruce says, but looks no less uncomfortable. 

“You’re getting attached,” Tony says after a beat, as if the world is ending. None of them deny it. 

“And how many of you have actually kept a pet alive?”

Clint grins, “I worked in the circ-”

“Doesn’t count,” Tony snaps. 

***

“Shit.” Tony had said several days earlier when his teammate turned into a dog.

Steve barked in agreement, a blonde Great Dane tall enough that his head came to Tony’s chest. 

For his size, Steve was all careful grace. His simple obedience should have been their first clue, because for all Steve’s claims of justice and good, he wasn’t exactly a law abiding citizen. 

Regardless, after a childish round of ‘Not It’ for taking care of Steve, they finally decided on a rotation. 

Which lasted all of two days. 

Tony created a few automated feeders and water bowls and didn’t bother to check them again, because, as he reasoned, he was a genius and of course they worked. He avoided the situation after that, disappearing without bothering to make an excuse for his absence. 

Natasha was tasked with supplying the rest of what a dog could need. She was gone for hours, and came back with a bed that was much too small, an old tennis ball, a suspiciously chewed up collar and leash.

Bruce took Steve for walks. Steve didn’t pull on the leash and never strayed from the sidewalk. Bruce breathed a sigh of relief, pleased he had chosen an easy task. He didn’t mind when Steve did his business; he’d seen much worse when he was providing medical attention across the world. The problem happened the second day when they were stuck at a crosswalk. They both waited patiently for the go ahead to continue forth, Steve’s tail wagging at every stranger, hoping for them to pet him. Not many did, intimidated by his large size. 

A woman tutted beside Bruce. He ignored it at first, with the assumption that it wasn’t directed toward him. However, he felt her eyes on him as she tsked again. He fidgeted with Steve’s leash, and turned toward the woman.

She scowled at him, “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Uh,” he looked down at Steve helplessly, but the dog didn’t have the right vocal cords to come to his defense. 

“Owners like you are why there’s so many dogs out on the street. You really should neuter your dog,” she snapped, looking down her nose in distaste. 

Steve whined, sitting on his haunches as the woman disappeared in the crowd. Bruce had made it back to the tower shaken up, and refused to take Steve for a walk again. 

Clint showered Steve with affection, petting him and baby talking at him, forgetting that the huge dog wasn’t actually a _dog._ He never did anything that actually counted as pet care.

Luckily, Steve proved himself to be relatively self-sufficient. He took himself out for walks, slept in his own bed, and used the numerous automated feeders dutifully, though he did indulge in the table scraps Clint threw his way.

Disaster struck a few days later when Steve let himself in from a walk, trotting out of the elevator to the common floor with an air of satisfaction. Clint shrieked when he spotted him, sick to his stomach. 

“No! Bad Steve! Drop it!” 

Tony looked up from his coffee wearily, “Bring the volume down Legolas.”

“He brought in a rat!” Clint complained. Sure enough, there was something small, brown, and furry in Steve's mouth. Tony grimaced, shivering in disgust.

Unaffected, Steve gently placed the wad of fur in his food bowl. The animal crawled around unsteadily, no bigger than Steve’s paw. 

“That’s not a rat,” Natasha said, sauntering into the common area. 

Clint blinked, watching the puppy eat Steve’s wet food ravenously, “Damn near.”

“Who the hell is that?” Tony demanded, as if a grown man had invited himself in, and not the shivering puppy that couldn’t be more than a few weeks old. 

Steve licked the top of the puppy’s head distractedly. 

“I know you understand me. Put that thing back where you found it,” Tony snaps. 

“Tony, it’s a baby,” Clint admonishes. 

“Baby or not, it doesn’t belong here. Cap,” Tony snaps, “take it back outside.” 

Steve continued to ignore him, and once the puppy stopped eating and took a few laps of water, he gently picked it up with his mouth and carried it over to the small bed Natasha provided. 

“Maybe his maternal instincts are kicking in,” Clint snickered and Steve lifted his large head to glare at him. His eyes were strangely human, dots of blue on his otherwise canine body.

He pinned Tony and Natasha with the same look and somehow managed to convey; _The puppy is staying, with your permission or not_. 

“Steve wouldn’t steal a puppy from it’s mother,” Natasha pointed out. Once Clint connected those dots, that there probably was no mother, he looked heartbroken, bottom lip quivering dramatically.

Steve whined, curling around the puppy’s body in confirmation. 

Tony threw up his hands, “J, what breed is that?”

“A _dachshund, sir. Shall I prepare arrangements for his stay?”_ JARVIS said, then added in mild disapproval," _If you don’t mind, Agent Romanoff.”_

Natasha shrugged unapologetically, and the puppy, who they dubbed Puppy, moved into Steve’s quarters with a brand new set of toys, food, and puppy pads. 

They caught Bruce up to speed, who at the time was elbow deep in R&D, and breathed a sigh of relief when Steve took full responsibility.

Out of sight, out of mind, Tony figured. 

That is until the second mutt breaks into the tower. Ok, that was an exaggeration, but the dog definitely was not invited. This time, Steve attempted to be sneaky, ushering in a Border Collie that’s seen better days.

Too bad for Steve though, because Natasha happened to be in the gym when he used that entrance. Steve stared at Natasha, Natasha stared at him, and the dirty Border Collie laid down, enjoying the cool air brushing away the heat of summer. 

Natasha rolled her eyes, turning back around to drive her fists into the punching bag. 

Not her problem. 

She could see Steve out of the corner of her eye, nuzzling the Border Collie until it stood up, and they made their way to Steve’s rooms without further incident. 

Steve grew bold after Natasha’s lack of response. Puppy, and who they’ve named Collie, join the Avengers for dinner the next night.

Clint scrunched his nose when they trot in, and the group looked hilariously mix matched. Steve; large, confident, and well groomed, Puppy; small and ever confused, and Collie; dirty as anything but with intelligence lingering in her eyes. 

“Collie needs a bath,” Bruce said. 

“No kidding,” Tony said sarcastically. Steve does what he’s done best the past week, ignored them and showed Collie where his common space food and water bowl were located. Tony’s started to regret making several, because the Great Dane must take the options as spare bowls for his furry friends. 

“I’ve, uh, maybe found a solution to that problem,” Bruce coughed. Clint patted Collie’s head, and proceeded to eat his slice of pizza with the dirty hand. Natasha gave him a look of great displeasure.

Tony’s eyes narrowed, “And what would that be?”

An automated bath apparently. Bruce rigged it up in Steve’s shower, and all his new friends needed to do was step in. The bath even adjusted for size.

Collie was almost unrecognizable the next time she made an appearance in the communal kitchen, clean and chipper. Puppy was right beside her, excited for Clint’s table scraps. Steve darted over to where Bruce stood, tail wagging as his large body caused solid thuds with each step. The Great Dane showered him with thankful kisses, which really should have been awkward but somehow wasn’t. 

Bruce took the attention gracefully, patting Steve’s head, “You’re welcome.” 

Tony glared at them both, ignoring Collie trying to give him the same treatment. He abruptly stood up, and began fiddling with the coffee machine to brew a cup. 

“She wants you to pet her,” Natasha said with a smirk. Collie barked, as if to agree, and put her wet snout against Tony’s hand. He snatched the appendage away as if burned, wiping it on his pant leg roughly. 

“I’ll pet you Collie,” Clint cooed, reaching a hand out in invitation. She bounded over to him, and got scratched behind her ears for her effort.

Tony reluctantly joined them at the table, and Collie sat by his feet once Clint stopped petting her. Puppy sat on Bruce’s foot, and the reserved man stayed still carefully. Steve watched them all from a corner of the room, blue eyes assessing the way the Avengers interacted with the strays.

Tony ignored the judging look, pleased to be left alone. 

The present Avengers took to guarding the elevator when Steve let himself, Collie, and Puppy back in from their walk. The system worked, and seemed to deter Steve from bringing in anymore mutts. 

They all should have known better. 

One night, Steve left the tower by himself, which they didn’t realize until Puppy appeared in the empty living room sans Steve and Collie. 

Steve _never_ left Puppy to fend for himself, even though the dachshund was growing by the day. Puppy toddled in, getting used to his legs enough that he had a little speed to his gait. JARVIS notified them all; Tony ignored him, citing that he was “busy”, Natasha was off on a mission that may or may not have been made up, Thor is still off world, so only Clint and Bruce were available. 

“This can’t be good,” Clint said as Puppy started attacking his socked feet. 

“You think Steve is ok? I mean.. should we check on him?” Bruce said. Puppy yanked on the fabric of Clint’s socks, biting his feet in the process.

Clint yelped, pulling his foot away from the sharp teeth unthinkingly, sending Puppy skittering across the floor. 

“Oh shit!” 

Clint scooped Puppy up in a panic, holding him out at arms length to check him over. Puppy’s long body dangled in his grip, tail wagging a mile a minute. Clint clutched Puppy to his chest in relief, setting the tiny dog on the floor just in time for the elevator to slide open silently. 

Steve walked in slowly, freezing in the entrance of the elevator when he spotted them. 

“Well, he looks relatively unharmed.” Bruce commented. Steve turned his back on them, putting his belly to the floor, hind legs sticking out of the elevator. 

Clint groaned, “Another one?”

Bruce shook his head, and stepped forward to peer into the elevator. A large dog, that looked about medium sized compared to Steve’s giant frame, plastered itself against a corner in the elevator. 

“ _A pitbull Dr. Banner_ ,” JARVIS supplied. 

“Thanks JARVIS,” Bruce said, eyeing the frightened dog warily. As Bruce got closer, the pitbull wedged itself impossibly closer into the corner. Puppy hurried over excitedly at the potential new friend. 

Before Puppy could step into the elevator, Steve turned his head around to growl at him warningly. Puppy staggered away, effectively cowed. 

“Whoa,” Bruce said.

“Not cool man. You scared Puppy,” Clint said. 

The pitbull hid its face against the wall. A clatter of nails suddenly filled the silence, and Collie rushed in from Steve’s room. She breezed past Bruce, and stepped behind Steve. She ignored his warning growl, paws digging into Steve’s back as she climbed over him rudely.

Collie touched her nose to the pitbull’s snout, and they all held their breath. Steve stood up, tail curled under his stomach in worry. The pitbull looked at Collie with tired eyes. 

Steve backed up to give them space, front paws placed in the elevator entrance patiently. After what felt like an hour, Collie silently convinced the pitbull out of its hiding spot. The pitbull crept forward carefully, freezing every time the gathered men so much as blinked. Collie and Steve stood guard on either side of the pitbull, which seemed to give her more confidence. Puppy followed along behind them, barely keeping up with their longer strides. 

“Bull,” Clint decided, and the dog, Bull, took cautious steps toward the water bowl. 

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Once Steve showed Bull how to jump on the couch, which Clint and Bruce pretended not to see in case Tony asked questions, he directed his attention to Puppy. Steve licked his head apologetically, but gently pushed the young dog away with his snout when he attempted to climb on the couch after Bull. 

Collie, again, ignored Steve and hopped on the couch after Bull. They settled in peacefully, Collie stretching over Bull to cuddle her.

The next dog was not as well behaved. Once Puppy stopped trying to crawl over Bull, Steve was off on his own again. He didn’t even hide what he was doing this time. Just simply left Collie in charge of Puppy and Bull. When Steve returned, he was not the first one off the elevator. 

Clint looked in horror as a golden retriever mix blasted into the common space like a bat out of hell. The mutt darted around excitedly, his wagging tail knocking over everything he passed. Steve had the good sense to at least look a bit sheepish, ears pulled back against his skull as he trotted in. 

The dog was none the wiser, destroying everything in his path as he bounced toward Clint. Before the archer could react, the dog snatched the slice of pizza in Clint’s hand. The dog jumped away joyfully, tearing into his stolen treat.

“Aw, pizza no,” Clint whined. The dog was moderately clean, at least not as dirty as Collie had been, and a deep scar crossed where his eye should have been. Clint pouted, “You’re lucky you’re cute.” 

“Who’s cute?” Tony said as he entered the common. His eyebrows hit his hairline before Clint could respond, “Is that _dog hair?_ On my Boca do Lobo sofa?” 

“You!” Tony pointed at Steve, “Fix this.”

“With what thum-,” Clint cut his own self off with a burst of laughter. It happened so fast, he couldn’t make sense of why he was laughing for a few moments.

Lucky must have taken Tony’s pointed finger as an invitation, and barreled into the man full force. Tony fell to the floor under Lucky’s weight, helpless to the dog’s pizza stained muzzle pushing into his space. 

Tony made a sound as if he was dying, pushing the dog off him and rolling away. He climbed onto his feet, scowling at the obliviously happy dog. Steve walked over in concern, presumably checking Tony’s body for injuries.

“I’m fine,” Tony snapped over Clint’s howling laughter, “If you need me I’ll be bathing in fire.”

In the upcoming days, Steve snuck in a husky, and the only reason they learned of his existence was how _vocal_ he was. No matter where in the tower, he could be heard screaming or howling. It wasn’t like he was hurt, it was how he _communicated._ Loud keening, yelping, and shrieking, with a side of glass rattling howling. 

After the 5th night of Husky singing the song of his people, they resolved to find a solution in secret. 

***

"Well I’m fresh out of ideas,” Clint says. They startle when the conference room door slides open. 

“I think I have a few,” Steve, _human_ Steve, says from the doorway. He has Puppy in his grasp, looking at them sheepishly. Tony collapses in relief. 

“Good. Get rid of them.”

Before anyone admonishes him, Clint rushes to say, “I’m keeping Lucky.”

“ _Absolutely not.”_

“I’m glad to hear that. He likes you,” Steve speaks over Tony with a smile.

Natasha raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement softening her face, “He told you that?”

Steve turns red, and clears his throat. 

“That doesn’t matter right now. We need to find them homes.” 

Clint makes a protesting noise.

“Besides Lucky.”

Clint sits back, satisfied. 

“How do you suppose we do that?” Bruce pipes up. Steve smiles at him thankfully, taking a seat at the table. He puts Puppy on the table, much to Tony’s disdain. 

“I eat here!”

“No you don’t,” Steve says happily, “We’ll do a charity event. Easy as pie.” 

It was easy. They decided to include an entire shelter for the massive event, and Steve took a picture with each adopter of his newfound friends.

Bull went with a young couple, the wife having grown up around pitbulls. 

Puppy went to a family of four, that already had two other dachshunds. 

Collie went with a farmer that gushed about all the land she’ll have full reign of.

Husky went to an Alaskan fisherman.

As the last of them leave, Steve becomes crestfallen though he tries to hide it. Clint sidles up next to him with Lucky on a lead. The lab mix pulls this way and that, excited at all the new sights and smells. 

“Tony told me to give this to you. He left, saying this place was giving him the hives,” Clint chuckles. 

Steve takes the proffered manila folder, and slides a piece of paper out of the confines. 

Stark Industries is plastered on the header because of course it is, but what catches Steve’s attention is the _Animals Assemble! Stark Industries sponsored Doggy Day Park._

Beneath is an address, a list of amenities, and current members with a quick bio next to them. Puppy, Collie, Bull, Lucky and Husky are all pictured, though Steve has no idea when Tony had the time to get them photographed. 

At the bottom of the page a neat scrawl says, **The rest of recruitment is on you -TS**

Steve huffs out a laugh.

“What? What’s it say,” Clint cranes his neck forward.

Steve folds the paper, grinning, “Let’s see if Lucky wants to make some friends.”

**Author's Note:**

> I may write a companion piece from Steve's perspective the next time I need to push out some words.. Maybe then we may find out how/why Steve is a dog : ) 
> 
> For now this is finished. Thanks for reading!


End file.
